Commander Cody had lost another man. Waxer. Shot down by his own brothers.

Cody hadn't known him very well off the battlefield, but he had always kept his head up. He'd been gentle and reliable.

Now he was gone, just another body in the dust; another painted helmet.

The 212th commander sat on a bench in a park on Coruscant, watching the happy families play around. He didn't understand why he had to fight for their wellbeing. They didn't deserve to have good men like Waxer die for their safety.

Cody couldn't help but shoot a small, happy boy a contemptuous look. Deaths weren't supposed to impact the clones. It went against their programming. But every time the commander lost a man, or read the body count after a taxing mission, he wanted to hit something. He wanted to shoot the Jedi and the Senators in the eye and run and hide far, far away, where he could cry and scream and release all the emotions that he kept pent up.

He hadn't personally known Waxer, but if Cody combined the guilt he felt for Waxer's death with the body count from Umbaraa. . .

It made him feel like he should take a gun to his own head instead.

The air tasted fake here. The sun was too far away on this side of the planet to provide real warmth. Instead, enormous heaters kept the temperature in check.

Cody considered taking out his blaster rifle and sending a round through the happy boy's face. It might make him feel better. Just hearing the amount of laughter that came out of the boy's mouth made Cody want to kill him. 

He fingered his blaster, contemplating. The parents would press charges. Cody, as a clone, wouldn't stand a chance. It'd be the end of the line for him.

And then who would look after the 212th?

"You're having a dark day," General Kenobi said, taking a seat beside Cody. The clone jumped, turning to stare at his general. Jedi could move with a level of silence that couldn't be achieved by even the most skilled scout clones.

"You could say that," Cody growled, taking his hand away from the blaster. He glared once more at the boy, who had finally noticed him. Probably because there was a Jedi with him now.

General Kenobi placed a hand on Cody's shoulder, looking at the crowded horizon. He didn't speak another word, just gently applied pressure when Cody thought particularly evil things.

Almost like the General was feeling his emotions right along with him.

"A good leader," Kenobi began, removing his hand, "Is a shadow and a shield. A shadow when things are going well, ever-present, but not overbearing."

Cody looked at Kenobi, but the Jedi did not meet his eyes. Perhaps he felt more majestic that way.

"And a shield," Kenobi continued, "When times are hard, jumping in and caring for his followers when his participation is needed most. He takes responsibility for his men, and he protects them."

Cody turned his gaze to his feet, listening intently.

"A leader is only the sum of what his men make him to be," Kenobi said, sitting back. "Just as the men are no more than what their leader allows them to be. In this way, neither are without the other."

Kenobi finally looked over at Cody. "You and I are leaders of our men. We are there whether they need us or not. We take responsibility for their actions. We act as one. Is an anthill any less efficient with the loss of one ant?"

Cody grit his teeth. "If it's the queen," he grumbled.

"Waxer was not the queen," Kenobi said. "We may still mourn for him, but we cannot pull back."

Cody shook his head. He knew this already. Kenobi's devotion book skills weren't going to help him through this.

"Right now," Kenobi said, "Your men need a shield. Umbaraa was not like other missions. They did things; you did things, and you can't undo them. You have to shield them. You have to help them move on."

Cody decided that the grass was fake when it didn't scuff beneath his foot. "Who'll shield me?"

"I will," Kenobi said, standing.

"And who will shield you?" Cody demanded.

Kenobi was already walking away. "A chain only stretches so far."

So. I can't write fluff anymore. XD.